The Beginning
by TheOceanBreathesSalty
Summary: They've all done this dance before. Past lives. Character death. Various pairings. Slash. Thanks to beyond-the-twilight for convincing me to publish this at all. T for violence.
1. 1951

**we'd be so less fragile if we're made from metal  
><strong>**and our hearts from iron, and our minds from steel  
><strong>**if we built an armor for our tender bodies  
><strong>**could we love each other? would we strive to feel?  
><strong>**you want three wishes  
><strong>**one to fly the heavens, one to swim like fishes  
><strong>**you want never bitter, and all delicious  
><strong>**and a clean conscience and all it's blisses  
><strong>**you want one true lover with a thousand kisses  
><strong>**you want soft and gentle and never vicious  
><strong>**and then one you're saving for a rainy day  
><strong>**if your lover ever takes her love away**

**~three wishes. the pierces.**

* * *

><p><em>one.<em>  
>(finn&amp;quinn)<br>(f i n n _pov_)  
>(<strong>1951<strong>)

The first time you saw her, she was wearing a long skirt and a button up white shirt. She was dressed like those girls on the front of the catalogs your mom liked to buy, a bright smile on her face and her pretty blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail.

She was new to town, only seventeen years old and fresh from the city. There was gossip around town that she had to move in with her aunt because she had a child out of wedlock and her parents refused to allow her to live with them anymore. You weren't sure that it was all true, because it was a small town and there was a lot of gossip, but it was all people could talk about.

"Finn, would you mind terribly going to the store for me? I know you probably have to go back to work soon, but please do this for me? I'm completely out of food," your mom asks you one Saturday morning.

You're just barely eighteen years old and still in high school. You're a senior this year and looking forward to graduation, even though you have no clue what you're going to do with the rest of your life. Right now, you work at the local diner as a fry-cook and it pays enough that you can buy things like the newest leather jacket or parts for your dad's old car whenever it isn't working properly.

You shrug on your jacket and leave the house, choosing to walk as it's only a few blocks to the local store from your house.

Your mother is outside the norm when it comes to the other mothers around town as she actually has a job, a teller down at the bank. She had to start working when you were fourteen and your father passed away. The other women didn't associate with her much because of it and you always felt bad that she was an outcast in her own town.

But it was a small city and things that broke the pattern, that were outside of normal, were not tolerated.

The only man that your mother had shown interest in, about a year after your father died, was the local mechanic. He moved shortly after that though because his son was being harassed, las you heard they had moved to New York City where abnormal people blended in more easily.

You're lost in your thoughts when you get to the store and as you walk in, you knock someone over as they try to exit.

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry!" you quickly say, automatically bending to help her collect her things. You look up at her to put the apples you just picked up back in her shopping bag and meet warm hazel eyes and a pretty smile.

"That's quite all right," she laughs, putting some dried spaghetti back in another bag. "You're so large it's a wonder that you don't knock over more people!" she smiles at you, taking the last apple from your hand. You smile back, and blush slightly glancing down at your feet. It's true that you're a little on the large side, you tower over all the other guys at school and most of the girls only come up to your collarbone.

"I should have been watching where I was going," you reply.

"Oh!" she suddenly exclaims, shifting all the bags to one arm, her cheeks flushing pink, "my name is Quinn. I'm new in town."

"Finn," you return, reaching out to take her bags. "Let me help you with those."

"Well, thank you, Finn. I'm headed this way," she says pointing down the street and flashing another one of those smiles at you.

The two of you start walking towards her aunt's house, your arms full of her groceries. She's laughing and smiling like the sun, her gold hair shining and her eyes glimmering. She's just so _bright_.

She's unlike anything you've ever seen before.

You leave the bags for her and walk backwards out her front door, a flush on the back of your neck and a crooked grin curling your lips as you wave a goodbye.

"It was nice to meet you, Finn," her voice calls out as the door shuts behind you.

You don't know it yet, but you just sealed your fate.

Things progress rather rapidly after that, you 'randomly' bump into Quinn all over town, just happening to find her when she's buying groceries or walking home from school. She lives on the other side of town, so she's in the only other high school available, and you were disappointed to find that you wouldn't be able to spend classes with her. You try to make up for the time lost after school and on the weekends.

It's only been three weeks since the two of you met when you ask her to go steady with you.

It's a question that you've only ever asked one other girl, a cheerleader named Brittany, and that ended rather abruptly when you found her behind the school with some guy named Arthur or something.

Quinn had come to visit you for work and she was waiting for you as you cleaned up, the sun glinting through her hair and making her already golden skin practically glow. And you just couldn't help yourself.

"Quinn Fabray, would you, uh, would you go steady with, well, me?" you stutter out, before consciously deciding to even speak. You blush as soon as the words escape your lips, your fingers twisting nervously together. Maybe you regret asking her in that way, but you don't regret asking in general.

She smiles, slow and sweet, her voice smooth as honey when she responds. "I think I would enjoy that, Finn Hudson."

Weeks pass by in what seem like seconds.

You spend every possible moment with Quinn, lost in her warm laughter and honey hair and smooth skin. The two of you sneak out to meet each other at night, go on dates and are completely, head over heels, irrevocably in love.

Your friends don't approve, tell you that she takes up too much of your time and that she's a loose woman, not worth your time. Her aunt doesn't like you, she seems to think that the gossip about why Quinn left the city in the first place would have died down by now if not for you.

Your mother is the only one who understands, and it's only because she remembers what it feels like, to be that in love.

Life seems like it's _perfect_.

And then it's all gone.

One second, one blink, just one _moment_ and everything's gone.

You were behind the local diner with Quinn, leaning against the wall with Quinn cuddled up to your chest. You're slowly running your fingers through her hair, saying something about your friends and some stupid stunt they pulled today when he comes around the corner.

He's shaking, dressed in pants that are too small and a shirt that's too big. His dark hair is greasy and limp, hanging over bloodshot eyes.

A dark silver gun gleams in his right hand.

"Give me your money kid! That necklace too, Blondie," he pants out, breathing harshly as his hands continue to shake. You reach into your pocket without protest, grabbing the money that you got from your last paycheck and beginning to hold it out.

Quinn speaks before you can though.

"No," it's all she says, her voice firm and hand steady as she reaches for the locket clasped around her neck. It has a diamond on the front, engraved flowers and two small rubies. It's bright gold and you've never seen her without it.

You've never seen the pictures inside either.

"Give it to me!" the man shrieks, dropping the gun as he goes to shove her. You hear the gun hit the ground and go off at the same time you see Quinn slam face first into the wall, her hand still clenched around her locket.

There's a cut on her forehead and you're looking at her in horror, trying to figure out how bad it is while blood slips down her porcelain face.

That's when you register the pain in your chest.

You glance down, reaching with too pale fingers to feel the blood seeping out of your chest. You're falling, starting to get dizzy, and you hear the gun go off again. The man runs while Quinn falls next to you, red staining her shirt to match yours.

She reaches out one hand, the one with the locket in it, and places it over yours.

"I have a daughter named Beth. This is the only picture I have of her," she barely breathes the words, gasping in pain as she attempts to shift so that she's closer to you.

There are people above the two of you now, you can hear someone shouting and somebody's crying, but all you can focus on is her.

"I would have liked to meet her," you murmur back, the metallic taste of blood beginning to flood your mouth.

Her eyes warm. "I'm sure she would have liked you."

You just nod, the cool metal of the locket contrasting with the warmth of her skin on your palm. Your eyes are beginning to blur, everything but Quinn becoming a mere blur.

All you can see is her.

"We didn't get enough time together though," you whisper, choking as more crystalline tears slip down her bloodied cheeks.

She smiles at you like sunlight. "It's okay, Finn. We'll see each other again. Our story isn't finished yet."

She looks so certain that you relax, allowing your eyes to close and reaching out to grab her hand.

One last stuttering breath.

Your eyes slip shut and her hand goes slack in yours.

You'll see her again.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay. So. There's part one. I'm currently planning on five more parts, but if there's any other couples that you guys are dying to see, let me know in a review.<strong>

**I don't own Glee or it's characters or the song Three Wishes.**

**And, as always, thank you for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!**


	2. 1862

**i'm asking for your help  
>i am going through hell<br>afraid nothing can save me but the sound of your voice  
>you cut out all the noise<br>and not that i can see mistakes so clearly now  
>i'd kill if i could take you back<br>but how?  
>but how?<br>but how?  
>but how?<br>but i don't understand the meaning of love  
>i do not mind if i die trying<br>i do not mind if i die trying  
>i do not mind if i die trying<strong>

**~how. maroon 5. **

* * *

><p><em>two<em>.  
>(kurt&amp;blaine)<br>(k u r t _pov_)  
>(<strong>1862<strong>)

"Darling, I was thinking about having the Hudsons over for dinner. Does Friday sound all right?" your wife asks while you're having breakfast. You smile at her, nodding an acceptance.

"Of course, Brittany dear. That would be fine, we haven't seen Finn or Quinn for quite a while," you respond, finishing your food and allowing the maid to take your plate away.

"Do you have plans for today?" she asks as you stand, daintily dabbing at her lips with a napkin.

"Oh, the usual, some work to catch up on. I'll be in my study for most of the day. There's some correspondence that I need to catch up on. What are you going to spend your day doing?" you answer easily, a soft smile on your face.

"I'm afraid that I'll be out all day. Mother asked if I could visit, she said that there was something wrong with her cat!" her voices rises with concern at the end of her statement and your smile becomes fond. "I'm actually planning on leaving now, if you would like to walk me out," she says, an inviting smile curling her lips.

You bow gallantly, holding out an arm and helping her to stand.

You walk to the door and bid her farewell before shutting the front door and walking through each room of the house, dismissing all the servants for the day.

Then you go upstairs and walk to your bedroom, closing all the shutters until it looks like nighttime again.

You hear someone enter and shut the door softly behind them and the moment that you turn around, you're being kissed and a warm palm is pressed to your cheek.

His lips are soft and smooth against yours, warmth seeping into your cold body. You're fallen back before you know it, landing with him tangled in the sheets that Brittany has never even touched.

"I've missed you," a quiet voice whispers near your ear, a hand finding it's way to one of yours and linking all your fingers together.

"I've missed you too, Blaine," you whisper back, an impossibly wide grin spreading across your face without your permission. His lips press to your neck and you begin to fumble with the buttons on his servant's jacket.

The rest of the day disappears.

It's full of warm caresses and soft sighs, perfect lips and kisses that make your whole body tingle.

You _know_ that this is wrong. Not only are you married, but you've been taught since birth that it's a sin to enjoy another man's body the same way that you are meant to enjoy a woman's.

But Blaine makes your heart stop, your stomach flutter, your eyes sparkle. He makes you _feel_ in a way that Brittany never has.

Don't misunderstand, because you _do_ love Brittany in a way. She's sweet if slightly oblivious, she always has a kind word to say and you're much happier with her than you ever would have been with the other women in town.

But she doesn't make you see sparks.

You don't love her the way that you love Blaine.

You love Blaine in the way that Finn loves Quinn, In the way your father loves your mother. And you don't care if anyone else says that it's wrong.

You firmly believe that no love is ever _wrong_.

So when you moved to your new house with your new wife and you got all new servants and there was this one servant, with dark eyes and a quick smile and a beautiful voice, you didn't hesitate to get closer to him. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea, maybe it wasn't the best thing to be doing, maybe everyone else thought that it was wrong.

But you've never felt happier than when you're with him.

You tripped in the dark while making your way to bed one night a few months ago and took him down with you and he was _so close_. He was breathing your air and you were close enough to see that his eyes had warm undertones of caramel and you couldn't stop yourself from pressing your lips to his. He smelled like ash and the forest and musk, the furthest scent from Brittany's own roses and lavender that you could possibly imagine. You loved it.

And you loved that moment.

Especially when he started to kiss back.

There had been a few days like this before, days where everyone left and it was just you and Blaine and stolen kisses. They're few and far in between, but they're the _most_ amazing days that you've ever experienced.

And they always end too early.

That thought, that hatred of beautiful days that end much too soon, it's what leads you to ask him to stay.

You tell him that it'll be fine, that no one will catch you an that you'll open the shutters so that the sun wakes the two of you before any of the rest of the house.

But it doesn't matter.

They find you before the sun comes up.

You don't know who found you first, which one of the servants discovered you and Blaine lying naked and entwined with one another on your bed. But one of them did. And they told the entire town.

You're awakened by the sound of heavy footsteps, rough hands grabbing you and pulling you away from Blaine even as you try to hold on to him. There are voices screaming as you blearily open your eyes, someone throwing a pair of pants at you and harsh hands yanking them on.

The voices are screaming about devils.

They're calling you and Blaine demons, saying that you're possessed, that the _real_ Kurt Hummel would never do something so heinous and that he must've been seduced by Satan himself.

And then your neighbor steps forward. "Fellow town-members!" he proclaims, his voice easily rising above the rest of the crowds, "I, too, believe that this is the work of evil, and not Kurt's fault. But, friends, there is no way to remove a demon from someone."

Your eyes lock on Dave's cold ones, a plea forming on your lips even as he finishes speaking.

"They must be burned."

The second you try to utter a protest, there's a fist in your stomach and you can't breathe. You fall to the floor as hit after hit rains down upon you, a kick to your back making you scream in pain. Blaine tries to reach you, tries to speak, and they start to hit him too. Blood trickles down your face as you try to meet his gaze, the sharp pain of each hit making it impossible to focus.

You just want to find Blaine.

Two men grab you and carry you out of the house, the angry mob surrounding you on the way to the center of the town.

Before you know what's happening, your being straightened out and the pain from all your bruises and broken bones causes your vision to swim and everything to go black. You wake up a few seconds later when someone slaps your face, already tied to the post with Blaine next to you.

Dave's eyes meet yours.

"_Burn_," he whispers, stepping away even as the rest of the village surges forward.

Blaine is tied to the pole next to you, barely conscious. There is blood marring his beautiful features and you're filled with such _hatred_ for the people of you town that you can't stop the primal scream that makes it's way out of your throat. It's full of anger and violence and it makes your throat feel raw, but it makes the rest of the townsfolk back up, crossing themselves and refusing to look directly at your flashing blue eyes.

Someone lights the wood at your feet on fire.

You continue to scan the gaze and your gaze locks with Brittany's from where she stands at the back of the crowd. There's tears in her eyes and a frown twisting her lips. The others, the people that grabbed you and Blaine and tied you up and beat you bloody, they're all surrounding her, faces melting into blurs of disgust and outrage and righteous anger. You lose sight of Brittany and your eyes slip closed at the exact same moment that Blaine's hand finds yours, fingers linking with his even though it hurts to stretch your arm out that far.

The flames around the two of you are burning brighter, getting closer, growing hotter.

You can't breathe anymore.

But that doesn't even matter because the story isn't finished yet, _your_ story isn't finished yet.

And you'd rather die with your hand locked with _his_ than with your mouth pressed to _hers_.

* * *

><p>So.. Sorry. That was depressing. The next one is Puckleberry though!<p>

I hope no one thinks that it was unrealistic, but, honestly, I don't know that much about the 1800s. I thought that it was pretty accurate, accurate enough for fanfiction I guess. And, yeah, everyone will die in this story. Someone asked if Finn died in the last chapter, and he did. Everyone will be. Sorry if that wasn't clear. And, yes, it was Dave as in Dave Karofsky.

I don't own Glee or the Maroon 5 song.

Review?


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